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Romeo & Juliet review – Jessie Buckley and Josh O’Connor are outstanding

What an accomplished example of pandemic-style drama: a sleek fusion of theatre and film. Director Simon Godwin and cinematographer Tim Sidell shot Romeo & Juliet on the Lyttelton stage of the National Theatre over 17 days, intercutting scenes, holding long closeups, emphasising theatricality – the cast first appear in rehearsal clothes. Most striking is Emily Burns’s freedom as “adapter” (unusual to see that word alongside Shakespeare). She cuts the play to 90 minutes, ironing out complications, lopping familiar jewels: Juliet no longer teaches the torches to burn bright.

Piquant moments are lost: I wanted to hear Deborah Findlay’s subtle Nurse lamenting her dead daughter. Yet the fervour of an outstanding pair of lovers is undimmed. Jessie Buckley is completely absorbed and absorbing, prophetically fearful (her “fiery-footed steeds” sound as if they are dragging a hearse), laying her soul as bare as her makeup-free face. Grave and graceful, Josh O’Connor has the same lopsided smile he wore in The Crown, but here it looks like a heart melting: it is wonderful to see him fulfilling the promise of his appearance seven years ago in Peter Gill’s Versailles.

Passion, seen as much as spoken, is too much underlined by Michael Bruce’s music. Yet a terrific cast of strong verse speakers – hurrah, not all with uniform RP accents – throw new lights. Fisayo Akinade’s Mercutio and Shubham Saraf’s Benvolio have a kiss. David Judge is a really cat-like Tybalt.

This is – without strain – a feminised version: “womanly fears” is quietly changed to “childish”. It is propelled by Buckley’s honesty and dynamised by Tamsin Greig’s Lady Capulet, who, given the lines usually spoken by her hubbie, holds herself ramrod stiff, a maternal bully whose brutality is sheathed by elegance. The casual contempt heaped on the Nurse as an elderly female without power is made unusually clear. And several episodes are illuminated by being reflected in the vivid face of Ella Dacres as Peta (Shakespeare’s Peter): a miniscule part charged up by an expressive young actor and skilful closeups.